


Kettles and Coals

by orphan_account



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, How Do I Tag, Maybe - Freeform, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 10:21:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16553963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The world has ended, there is nothing left but dust and walking corpses to be. Civilization has fallen to pieces but hidden underground there are outposts housing the rich and undeserving. Nobody interests Michael in any of these outposts, he visits them to fulfill his role and pick the worthy on his way to create the new earth, but someone he meets is more worthy than anybody assumed.





	Kettles and Coals

It's been 18 months since the bombs fell and it seemed that everything was going to plan. The world had torn itself apart, just about 1% of the human population was left at most (which within that number was mainly the original 1% anyway) and all he had left to do was bring about the new world from the ashes he created.

The whole is nearly biblical- in the sense that once again a higher power has brought about an end, but in this instance he's both Noah and God. He is their salvation, he is their doom, and they can't do anything about it.

Outpost 3 was just another stop filled with the undeserving. Just puny humans panicking about the end of days.

As if it hadn't already happened.

But he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy seeing the hope slowly drain from their eyes as they realise they're unworthy. The first ones to crack are always the devout. No matter how much the cling to their god and hope and pray for something better, sooner or later reality sets in and they realise that there is nobody listening. And when they realise that, they realise they have nothing to go to if they die- so then they become a manifestation of immorality. A culmination of whatever commandments they swore not to break as debauchery is not a sin if there is nobody upstairs to judge you.

They're always fun.

And then it will be the ones who believe their wealth should prove them worthy, they forget that their perceived wealth Is nothing now. Who cares how much money you have in a bank if there are no banks? The rich always tend to just throw money at a problem.

Not that he sees that as a problem- no! Not at all! In fact it's how he managed to get this all put together. Scaremongering and promises of salvation always do the trick to get wallets opened.

Would it be ironic to thank god for these idiots?

And the last ones to give up are the good. They try so hard to believe- to see the good in him. When will they learn there isn't any?

But truly, his favourites would be the truly deplorable. The ones who would lie, kill and steal all to save themselves or just for fun.

He makes them feel like vulnerable, they serve themselves up on a silver platter just for his inspection and nothing is quite as satisfying as seeing the soul that they have laid before him utterly destroyed.

What he didn't bargain for though, was a seemingly inconsequential grey named Mallory.

* * *

 

 

The interviews went as expected.

The purples were as always desperate and easy to manipulate; Gallant had tried to seduce his way in, Ms Venable was a mess of shame and ambition, Dinah stayed quiet. She knew better than to say or do anything.

They were really all much of a muchness. Nothing new or exciting in this godforsaken wasteland… apart from Mallory.

She seemed rather meek, timid even. She didn't step out of line and played the part of server rather well. Even he would have been fooled if he didn't see the spark of fire in her eyes when he pressed her for answers.

Her skin felt like hot coals against his hand, she had something hidden within her, something bigger and far more vengeful than how she could possibly feel about Coco.

He certainly didn't expect her to fling him across the room or for the spark of fire to fan out into a raging fire when she tried to flee from his questions.

Finally there was something interesting in his old prison of a school. There was something to discover and he would get the answers out of her even if he had to drag them out of her.

As he sat there, dumbfounded at the exuberant display of raw power and her dramatic exit, he could only help but to draw comparisons to himself.  
She felt as lost as he did when he began his journey to destroy the world.

She couldn't be a witch- he would know a witch in a second. There was just something about her that felt all too familiar yet different in her power. She vexed him.

  
Little did he know that she felt the same way about him.

* * *

 

He scared her. She had heard from the others how their interviews went and had seen how visibly shaken they were from the experience, so she felt like she knew what she was going to be up against when she entered the room for her interview.

Secrets would be pulled out of her, slowly and painfully or maybe ripped out. Either way she was going to be on the end of a band aid, struggling to hold onto something even if it’s just trying to hold herself together.

Opening the door to enter Langdon’s room was unnerving, she didn’t even know his first name yet he expects her to spill her guts to him? Hypocrisy seems to be a prerequisite to being in the Cooperative, which shouldn’t be comforting but something about seeing him as just another Ms Venable makes him less frightening.

Just as she is greeted with the imposing form of Langdon, draped across the chair, staring her straight in the eyes, she feels her past comparison is wrong and far more pleasant than the foreboding stare of what could be her down fall.

She couldn't lie and say that he was grotesque, because truly, he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. But that just meant he was more dangerous as he knew he was beautiful. 

And when he stared at her, it felt like he was staring into her very soul- infecting it with his overwhelming darkness. She became anxious, her heart began to race as he questioned her. He pulled out every potential dark thought she had and yet he seemed to want more. 

He wanted all her hidden secrets. Even the ones she herself did not know. 

The pressure of his gaze, his presence, his touch became far too immense. She was burning up, something inside her wanted to explore out. She felt like a tea kettle ready to scream she was done and then...  
He got too close. Something inside her reacted instinctively and her body screamed out power

**Author's Note:**

> This is beyond messy as it's currently well past midnight and I have not proof read this because I'm really well organized. Instead of doing actual work tonight I wrote this??? All because the millory tag was lacking??? Should I continue or is this just the mad ramblings of someone very sleep deprived?


End file.
